Stupid Hat
by Squid.Butler
Summary: Stan and Kyle have gotten in a fight and let's just say..The first to say there sorry is the gay one? /It's better if you just read it xD/
1. Chapter 1

I'm Stan.

That's Kyle.

And we're fighting.

Four days ago, it was just a mindless day. I was perched on the side of some playground equipment, ice cream at hand listening to Wendy talk about her day. I didn't feel like playing football with the guys today. I breathed out a small sigh as she babbled on about some unknown whereabouts, based on a rumor going around the school. I looked up to hear the massive thunk that came from the football drilling into Kyle's forehead. He stumbled back a couple feet before doubling forward and grasping onto his forehead.

The boys crowded around and observed the Jewish kid releasing the grasp on his wound, taking the bloodstained gloves off into the snow. Token stepped forward, "Sorry dude! Are you ok?" He asked before being rudely pushed aside by what I assumed felt like being bumped by a bulldozer. Of course, I'm talking about Cartman.

"I told you Jews can't play sports!" Cartman barked angrily.

Kyle tensed his fists and threw his head up, revealing his face spilling with a small amount of blood. "SHUT UP CARTMAN!" He snapped in short-temperament.

I joined the crowd to make my way near him. "Dude, what happened?"

He began to state his case until Craig's statement stood out to me a little more than Kyle's. "I think he was checking you out." Craig pointed out.

Kyle crossed his arms quickly and sucked in his gut (for some odd reason) and stared sharp green daggers into Craig's oceanic eyes. "Don't be dumb, Craig." Kyle growled. Craig responded with a small gesture, using his favorite finger.

"Dude, I think I saw that." Clyde added on to support Craig coyly. The next thing I saw was Kyle's limp body flinging itself into the sheets of snow.

"Dude, he fainted!"

xxoxxoxx

"Well, Kyle, besides the injury, you fainted from a fever." the nurse turned to face the gigner, unborn fetus jiggling from the side of her slicked face and all, "Some bed rest and you'll be just fine!" she ended her analysis and exited the room as gracefully as she could, I slipped around her to enter in.

"Hey dude." I slid a chair over to me for a seat. The Jewish boy had a bandage stuck to his forehead and his signature green hat was set to the shelf behind him peacefully. He looked rather shocked I was here, his lips seemed distressed as they parted away from his small glass of water.

"Oh..Hey Stan." he silently greeted me, "What's up?"

"Not much. School's ending soon." I reached over to nervously work my hands about the back of my head, "You need a lift home?"

"Uh..Sure, thanks.."

"No problem."

"Does my mom know about the injury thing? She'll flip a tit."

"Nah, she doesn't."

Kyle closed his eyes and drew the glass of water to his face, a bit angsty from the thought of his mom grinding him into the gravel and suing the school board for every penny they got. "Thank God."

I knew it was a touchy subject right now, but I had to know. It was itching away at the back of my mind, and it forced its way to set upon my lips. "Hey Kyle?" Kyle's green eyes shifted over to stare into mine. It was kinda unsteady; the topic itself was a bit unsteady to begin with. "What Craig said before you fainted isn't true..right?"

Those eyes what were peicring at me a moment before were now fixed on the glass below his chin, round and awake, his pale narrow fingers fidgeting their grip on the glass. "I think my fever's getting worse.." he mumbled under his breath with anxiety. "N-No.." he replied to my question with a shake in his tone. Those grassy eyes closed in false confidence as he lifted his head to face me, a bright small smile cornered his hearty face, "Of course not, Stan! You're my best friend!" he assured me.

Kyle's face seemed tense, but no words were coming out. I know something was up but getting any answers from him didn't seem possible right now.

"Fine. I guess it doesn't matter anyways." I shrugged it off my shoulder with a false form of contentment. "I mean, it's not like you're actually gay or anything. And I'm no fag." I laughed it off, but looking at the worry set in Kyle's eye made me feel he was offended..? I think gears finally worked it all out in my head.

"Dude."

Kyle's face buried into his knees covered by a thin worn blanket. He muttered to me from his hiding place "I never said that. I never said anything! I just..Looked over and you j-just happened to be there."

I knew him since preschool, I believe now was the breakthrough where I could finally tell he was lying. "Dude, if you're.." I chocked on the words for some reason- I couldn't understand why.

"Stan, I can't believe you. Are you really buying in to what those two ass maggots say?" Kyle tried to convince me, but he was lying through his teeth. He was never a good liar.

Maybe this whole thing's bothering him more than it is me. Maybe.. There's a lot more behind both our words than we know about.

"If it was just that, you wouldn't be making such a big deal out of it. You never cared of what people thought of you, why are you having such a hard time now?"

Kyle's face froze to sudden shock. His fever was visible and the whole thing blew out of proportion. "I'm not having a hard time with anything. Why are YOU making such a big deal out of it?"

What he said made complete sense in a way. Why WAS I making a big deal out of it? Was something inside urging me to get an answer THAT badly? Not even curiosity seems to go that far. Usually, I stray from the danger that it may bring. That leads me to believe it was something under my skin that was itching for truth.

"..." The unknown tossing and turning under my skin forced a protective shield amongst me and my anxiety; my defense mode. This was trouble when Kyle has his up as well. We but heads and never seem to stop, even if we know we both have a right side and a wrong side. But we don't care, none of it matters now. This confusing sensation rattling beneath my very pores made me lash out as well as him.

"I'm not gay! I told you that! You're the one who's trying to squeeze an answer out of me! Maybe you're the gay one!"

That was it. All thoughts that could of made me believe it was my fault this was going on was dissolved, right into the pool of confusion that lied within me.

"I'm gay? No way! I'm not a fag! I'm not the one checking out my best friend!"

"Shut up! I wasn't checking you out! You may want to think I was but I wasn't you ass pirate!"

"Yea, well then what were you checking out, my girlfriend? Oh wait, if I really WAS an ass pirate, I wouldn't have one, just like YOU crack master!"

The insults went on, and finally the rage boiled through the soles of my feet and I raced up and blurted to his injured face.

"Find yourself another ride home, ass sucker. I've had enough of you."

"Fine! See if I care!" Kyle's arms swung out in expression of his angst, flinging off his hat that innocently rested on the shelf.

"Crap.." He muttered to himself. "Well to be a little decent, you can at least pick up my hat for me." He snapped at me. I wasn't sure if this was his way to get us to stop fighting or to get me close enough to punch in the face. My instincts were shoved into the way of a train of darkness, with no real known destination.

"Pick up your own stupid hat."

I stormed out the door with the awkward and misty silence following me like a shadow.

Maybe it was my shadow.

That ride home must've been awkward for Kyle. But my dislike due to our situation made barely even care.


	2. Chapter 2

That day at school made me want to punch anyone that came in my way. Especially with Kyle locked in my eyes. What made me so aggrivated? I'm usually not this irritable. Even Wendy's been annoying lately. But.. Even before the feud, she's been more bossy, distant,..And just a pain. I sometimes wondered why I bothered with her. Speaking of which-

"Hi Stan!" Wendy shrieked with her high pitched voice echoing through the hollow halls.

"..Hi Wendy" I replied descretely. I didn't feel like talking much. She moved into the way of my vision of Kyle shoving books into his locker. Hopefully she could make me feel better.

WRONG. Wendy vented to me the entire time about how Bebe was going to get the same shoes she was after Wendy confronted her about it. I followed close behind carrying her books but conflicting with myself about other matters. She concluded her story and turned to me with the highly raised questionable look. "Do you agree, Stan?"

..I had no idea what she said, I figured to keep her happy and from storming off with a silent treatment I reviewed a solid "Certainly."

Seeing as I had Wendy, it wasn't hard for me to astray from Kyle without seeming desperate for any companionship. Though sometimes I wish I had a turn to talk about what was troubling me. It's not that Wendy stops me from trying to, she just has too many issues in a day for me to get a word in. We strolled past Kyle at his locker with Kenny, whom which was using his hands to talk. It seemed he was venting and complaining about something too, due to his muffled profanity. It reminded me of me and Wendy. At this time my grudge against him made me think that; trying to convince myself right about his sexual orientation.

"Ugh." Kyle inturrupted Kenny's obsessive talking about graphic things.

"What's wrong?" Kenny asked his friend. That was the difference of the situation- Kenny was willing to stop was he was talking about to listen.

"Nothing..I'll just tell you sometime after school, okay? Class is gonna start soon."

Kenny shrugged, "Alright."

Surely enough, the bell rang through the little school that noted the children to go to class. All students were accounted for, and it seemed quieter than usual. Probably because our group has technically been split in 3. Me and Kenny on occasion, Kyle and Kenny on occasion, and Cartman. Mr. Garison announced to the class about an upcoming assignment on American Literature- and he's to chose the partners the next day. A feeling sunk deep in my chest about that. I know how it goes, the people who are least likely to end up together end up together. Fan freaking tastic.

After hearing Mr. Garison talk about the time he was kicked out of Kansas, the bell struck announcing a break for lunch. Before it could finish the class was already out the door leaving Garison in the dust.

"Stan, are you- GAH! Alright?" Tweek questioned me in his skittish way. I looked down at my food. "You barely touched your food." he caught my eyes glancing about my tray.

"I'm fine Tweek. Seriously." I assured him with a small nervous smile. I wrapped up this white lie by closing my eyes.

"I think you're only GAH! Pretending to be okay." Tweek exclaimed to me. "It's not healthy, Stan!"

"I know, I know. Some things you just gotta settle yourself, y'know?" I patted his shuttering shoulder. "I'll be ok, dude."

Kyle was the next table over with Cartman and Kenny. Cartman already downed his lunch prepared by Chef, and also part of Kenny's. Kyle's packed lunch was mostly gone, but some Kosher food still remained, resting on a settled fork. "I'm so sick of Stan" Kyle mumbled under his breath.

Cartman looked over with his mouth dropped open and covered in pepsi residue, his eyes widened with curiosity "Seriously? That's killer! So one of you guys need a new best friend, right?" Cartman's hopes were high, thinking back on the time the two faught over him.

"Don't go there, Cartman." Kyle said sternly with an annoyed expression. "Seriously, what gives him the right to accuse me of those things?" he asked aloud.

"Right to what?" Kenny asked, confused.

"Nothing."

"Wow Kyle, you are pissed off. It's a shame jews can't throw punches worth a shit!"

"SHUT UP CARTMAN!" he slammed his fists on the table, or what he thought was the table. He hit his fork that rested some food, and flung it across the lunch room, hitting me squarely in the back of the head.

I didn't know it was all an accident. It was all coincidence, and karma. I walked up to him with a glare in my eyes reaching the residue at the back of my hat and flicking it in his direction. "You can have that back.." In my other hand, I splashed my open milk ontop of his head, his face frozen as the liquid drained down. "And there's a parting gift."

"FOOD FIGHT!" Craig declared in the room. Food suddenly converted to ammo as it swept through the air at moving targets. I found myself idling under a lunch table observing everything.

"Hey." A familiar voice snapped. I turned around into a flash of white into my face. I was headshot with mashed potatoes. Clearing my face into my arm, I look up to see that mess of a redhead. Kyle shrugged away and looked off center of my face. "Sorry." He said, "I just thought you were used to having white stuff in your face."

UGH! What gave him the right? My instict rushed in to play. "Says the guy with white stuff on his hands," he whipped his head to look at the potato covered hand. "AND face.." I pointed out the milk he never bothered to swipe clean.

We both hit a nerve in eachother, sending out through our arms swinging forth to whail eachother in the face. It didn't stop there, he made movements of a tightly coiled fist into his gut as I made advances towards his face again. His hand thrashed out to grab the front of my hair and locked it into his palm bringing my face down into his knee. The adrenaline making it seem like only a sting on the nose, I grabbed his collar and broke my head over his, as he tried to pull away we rolled. We rolled out in the open as Wendy made everything freeze in time with a giant threatening "EVERYONE. STOP!" The people flinched and angled towards the student, then down at Kyle and I.

Boy, did it look akward. I was..on top of Kyle, sprawled out on the floor, I had him pinned, faces flushed about with random white spots, and white on Kyle's hand. People stared, which didn't help. I heared whispers like "what the-?" and Butter's pitchy voice complaining "I-I don't get it."

"Oh and I'M the gay one." Kyle stressed coyly.

"You ARE the gay one" I barked as I lifted myself from the Jewish boy below me. His look of disapproval was followed by a remark.

"Says the fanny bandit who threw himself on top of me."

"Don't read into it, gaywad. We were fighting" I argued with a simple scratch to the back of my head.

Before anything else came out to lash into eachother's face, the bell inturrupted everything, assigning us to go to class.

Soon enough the end of the day was met- but I stayed behing to help Mr. Mackey clean his office. I turn to that same higher somewhat nasled voice. "Hey."

Kyle stood before me- arms crossed with his feet planted in the ground. He refused to look at me, his vision glued to the floor besides me. It was kind of awkward; the idea of not even being looked at when you're trying to have a serious conversation. It feels distant.

"Kyle?" I questioned obliviously.

"I need a ride home." he huffed involountarilly and crossed his arms.


	3. Chapter 3

It struck me as odd. He usually rode the buss home, even when we weren't fighting. He never liked riding the buss for all the reasons to NOT want to ride one, but he never asked a ride from me because he's also afraid of my sister when she rampages towards the car.

"..How did you miss the buss?" I asked blandly, looking to the wall. It was weird to look someone in the eyes during conversation when they don't even look back.

"Nevermind that." he grumbled loudly, his head lowering itself a little, "S-so can you give me a ride home?"

I turn to the exit, regretting the next word that slipped out of my mouth, "Fine."

The funny thing is..As much as I was regretting that simple word, I was looking forward to it.. Well, maybe for another reason than the obvious one. That or I'm stubborn.

Pulling out of the driveway is always a quick and thoughtless process being so small, but once we got onto the road, the silence was begining to sink in. It was kinda nice. I no longer regretted saying ok to him tagging along in my hunk of junk on wheels, I rather enjoyed it- but only because it was a lot quieter and less vein popping than I expected it to be. Just me and the silence of the road-

"You should really use your seatbelt" he spoke up a little timidly, green eyes forcing themselves away from me again.

He ruined my little time to sit in the tranquility of the car to go all naggy Kyle on me. It only goes down hill from here, because once Kyle usually starts nagging, he just can't stop.

I released a hand off the wheel to pull the belt across my chest, wincing to the idea I was actually listening to Kyle's demands.

"Ok, mom." I mocked.

"Just caring about safety" he said venomously. The words seemed nice, but the attitude carried it miles from the same zip code as the word. It seemed rather guilty and manipulative.

"Speaking of caring.." I started, "How DID you miss the buss?"

...Did I just say that? Of course I was curious, but for me to open a conversation to him was the last thing I wanted to do. Must of been super best friend instinct. But I found myself caving in more and more into the idea of needing to help him and reach out to him. As gay as it sounds, it's true.

"..You really wanna know what happened?" Kyle snapped a bit.

I pasted my eyes on the road while replying "Duh, I wouldn't be asking if I didn't wanna know, genious." Even though we were talking, I wanted to keep my distance. I really wanted to be there for him but this was a battle of will. First to cave is the gay one.

"..I was uhmm.." He chocked. "Don't laugh at me or I'll kick your ass."

"Dude, I won't"

"I was crying?" he looked over at me to see my reaction. It wasn't what he expected- his answer wasn't what I expected. I was shocked. Worried.

"..Why?" I said a bit startled from the emotion that shone through my voice. I took my eyes off the road with the habit to look him in the eyes when he talks, but his eyes werew averted again. And they were layered a thin coat of watery liquid emotion.

"It doesn't matter, dude. Just..people. It's none of your buisness anyways" He acted strong with his face pressed against the window.

"I don't care, I'll make it my buisness!" I snapped. I was so worried for him. It was almost startling me. At least my brutality in words made him open up. "Now what happened?"

He was choking on words as he pulled his green worn hat over his eyes. Biting his lip to the point it was turning white. "I-.." He hiccuped. "I was beaten up by some seniors.."

Wow. I never expected him to be the one to cry over physical pain. He was certainly short tempered but never was he the one to carry on when he was beat up, or anything that could of came into the same category as physical pain. My thoughts slowed down once he started speaking up again.

"They thought I w-was forcing m-myself on you or some shit.."

I never realised how things like a food fight could be misinterpreted so badly. Besides- wasn't I the one on top? If anything, I should of been the one that got my ass beat. A wave of guilt flowed over me. It must be because I'm the quarterback of the team and people don't hurt a star player- that's too much pride that gets ripped away from the school.

"T-they kept kicking me in the sides.."

The car maneuvered to the right and slowly made it's way to a halt. The gear quickly shifted into park. Kyle's hat lifted over one of his eyes to peer out the window, the scenery no longer flying by. "Why did we stop?"

I look over to him with eyes widened with curiosity and some hesitation. The guilt was getting worse. "Lemme see where they hit you."

"F-fine." At least he didn't argue with me. If he did, he couldn't of supported his argument with anything. He's already broken down in tears right in my car and admitted he wasn't ok. There's not much of a battle there- even better, there wasn't any.

He lifted up his sweatervest that matched the color of his eyes along with the dress shirt that was wrinkled under it. As it elevated, more bruises exposed themselves. They were dark, some swollen, and all painted a deep blue hue. Some were a light brown yet, but looked like they'd get worse. Even scrapes and one deepened cut.

Who could have the heart to hurt someone like Kyle? The guilt only started to nip at my throat again. Even harder. They were no longer nibbles but full on chomps. It made it hard to speak.

"You need to get the dirt outta these scratches..That's some cut too, I thought they only kicked you."

"They did"

"O-Oh.."

Someone to kick him hard enough to break skin..How barbaric! Immoral and and.. I wasn't acting much better. I shooed him away from me for supposedly checking me out. Supposedly being gay. I don't blame him for throwing that food at me anymore. I only blamed myself for taking it so badly. For taking everything so badly.

"Just get me home. I'll take care of it myself. It's not like you have a first aid kit in the car." Kyle complained. He rolled his shirt back down and huffed a small breath before he leaned against the window once more. I wasn't gonna leave it at that. I couldn't. I had to convince him to let me help him.

"..You aren't gonna show your mom, are you?"

"Hell no dude. She's been threatening sense the head injury that if I keep coming home with bruises and whatever else that she'd home school me." He showed measurement with his fingers to indicate how close he was to that state. "Can you imagine being with my mom nagging about algebra all day? No thanks."

I laughed it off a bit. But my mind was running out of options of how to allow me to assist him. I wanted this guilt to leave me alone. "I guess you're right."

"Psh, I KNOW I'm right." He barked in his own session of angst. I couldn't blame him though. He has to let some sort of steam off after being beaten then crying about it to someone he's fighting with. He may not of thought so, but that takes guts. Sure, he's a scrawny little nerd- and I'm some energized jock. And my guts aren't as strong as his. Physically, sure. But when does that actually matter?

I just nodded to what he was saying, listening intentively. Surely, that was all I could do to help right now. Perhaps those physical wounds were nothing compared what he was feeling on the inside.

Maybe..He wasn't even crying about the abuse brought to his side. Maybe it was a convinient and genius coverup. Either way, I skidded rather abruptly to a stop. I was lost in his sharp words and almost missed his house. His head bobbed forward before glancing at me, reading off the 'what the hell kind of driving was that' look. Yes. Kyle had a 'what the hell kind of driving was that' look. It looked kind of like his 'I don't think this food was heated properly' look. Knowing him for so long, he had more than a mad and happy look. Everything I've heared him say at one point had a destinguishable face for it. It was jut a Kyle thing.

He shrugged it off and shoved open the the creaky car door. He looked back at me with cold bitterness. It was intimidating to look at him. His anger was so great- and undoubtedly since most was gestured towards me. Though a bit of it aimed towards me was faught back. Probably trying to be a little more decent or polite sense I gave him a ride home. (Or calmed his crying.) Still, that look that he gave me felt unsteady and made me defensive. The idea that he was ready to strike made me want to strike sooner. I raised my hand quickly to say goodbye; he just tilted his head down to rear the door closed behind him. I fastened my seatbelt before I drove out of the sight of Kyle's house. If this feud gets to the point, who CAN he go to for help..?

As soon as I got home, I was alarmed by a loud thud against my window. It was Shelly, braces and all glaring at me, making it uncomfortable to breathe. "TURD." She yanked the door open with the collar of my shirt and chucked me onto the cold garage floor. She snapped at me while settling herself into the now emptied car seat. "I need the car, TURD!" no more words said, she recklessly scewed out of the driveway and off into the road, soon out of sight. I picked myself off from the floor and felt my nose sting. It was obviously bruised- maybe scraped and bleeding a little. Not even 3 seconds home and I get beat. That must be a record. I get up, no attempt to pick up my hat that launched itself off my head when I was thrown, and made my way to open the door up to the living room.

I go to my room. Why did it seem so empty? It doesn't matter. I dragged myself sluggishly to my bed before leaning forward to impact it with a cold hard bellyflop. A long sigh rushed out my lips as I configured what was happening. Why did I feel so bad all of a sudden? I shot my head up to feel a dence fluid in my pillow. As I thought. My nose was bleeding. Why do garage floors need to be so unforgiving?


	4. Chapter 4

I was falling asleep simply from reading a textbook in front of my locker. I was up all night with little things. Or to me, big things. Firstly, I wanted names. Who did that to Kyle? Secondly, how can I get them back? If I do get them back, how the hell will Kyle let it slide? He might have some pride he wants to keep after being beaten then sobbing to my face. It wouldn't be such a big issue if we weren't fighting. When we fight, nothing's really said to eachother's faces.

Woken up, I heared the terrifying lowered tone that only hell could be brought upon. Wendy was pissed.

"You said you were going to call me last night, Stanley!" She pouted innocently, not ready to fire out her anger. Thank goodness I had some sort of chance to speak.

"Sorry Wendy, I was just too tired last night. I had a lot of stuff going on."

Her eyes weakened but stayed firm. "You couldn't of given me a little heads up that you wouldn't call? I was up really late last night, expecting a call."

Ugh. I didn't want this to go down. I just wanted to do the homework I was to groggy to do last night. "I was up really late too. I have a lot on my plate right now, I barely even got my homework done." I stammered. I kept my eyes fixed onto my geometry book.

Wendy leaned over to magnet her stare until my eyes met. "Oh really? I'm sorry to hear that Stan, but at least try to make the time to try and call me- even if it's to say you can't call! I really needed to talk to you the other night, I was really bummed out!"

She has no idea. Her issues are played over every other day, it's not even news to either of us anymore. She knows she sees the same thing each time, but she's convinced each feud she has is worse than the last when it really IS the same thing. It's not her fault though. What I could stand to see change is her patience.

"I was bummed out too, Wendy. But I really gotta finish this homework right now."

Wendy crossed her arms and huffed. "Well I'll leave you to your homework then.." She didn't bother to ask why I was 'bummed' or anything..That's what bothered me. It's like when she had issues, no other issues existed. I swear, it's gonna be the death of me.

"Wendy, seriously. I don't have time for this, I know what you're trying to do and it's not working." I cringed.

She turned her head fast to look at me with cold eyes. "You're impossible Stan! Is it too much to ask that you listen now and again?" Her arms flew up as quickly as they plumited down.

Before I could even begin to go off on how inconsiderate that statement was, she was already half way down the hallway. The silent treatment has begun.

I welcomed it. I could use some more time off from all that drama she posseses. I have my own shit to deal with. By the time my homework was near completion, the bell alarmed throughout the school. The memory shot up and hit me like a brick- Today's the day where Garison picks our partners for that assignment.

"Okay children settle down before I make you settle down. First I wanna talk about.." I lost the rest of it. It was swimming in one ear and out the other. I was slowly becoming a nervous wreck. My eyes flashed back into focus as the words 'assigned partners' was brought up into play.

Name after name was called. I felt my hands grow clammy, but I remained calm.

Mr. Garison can't be as mean as to put Kyle and I together right? He'll probably end up pairing me with Wendy. Though she always tended to take the lead and become overbearing with how things are supposed to be handled in any type of partner and or group assignment. Kyle took these things seriously as well, but he always expected you to contribute. With Wendy, it's 'if your contribution isn't good enough I'll do the work myself'. Thing is, what she wants comes at such high standards, it's insane. My thoughts rippled out as I heared my name being called. This is it.

"Stan.."

My eyes rounded in the sound of my own name, not quite prepared who's name will be bonded next to it.

"You're with Craig."

SERIOUSLY? CRAIG? I was expecting Wendy! ..Sadly, I was even expecting Kyle. Of course, I didn't WANT to be paired with Kyle at the moment, but I still expected it nonetheless. I glanced over at the teen drooped over his desk, ravenous bangs swooped over to the side, ears cornered out with small plugs. Indeed, he became more of a badass since he was younger. Actually, he remained the same (besides announcing he's bi and playing the drums)- but he LOOKS like he causes more trouble than he used to. He looked over to me, pointing with his middle finger as he parted his snake-bit lips. "Marsh? Alright then.." He said in a monotone voice.

This..Can't be that bad. At least I get along with Craig. I wonder if I have to become a Wendy in this assignment- become controlling just to get the job done right.. Only one way to find out.

At the end of class, i found myself tugged aside by Craig, who was staring at me with the bored expression he always wears. "Marsh, I warned my parents I'd be having a friend over tonight so you can either walk with me there or just drop by."

I looked at him with false content. Why was he being so nice to me? "Is that really what your parents said?" I precautioned. I began to stand my ground as I poked him strictly in the chest. "And why are you being so..inviting?" I remarked. He quriked an uninterested eyebrow and declared his story, swatting away my finger against his hoodie.

"That shocking huh? I just need this assignment taken seriously." He announced stiffly. The vagueness in that sentence was so visible, even he could barely believe what he said. "I have my reasons."

"Well I'm leaving as soon as school's done. I'm not waiting so if you need something, get it now." Craig instructed as he left the room. Apparently I'm walking with him. Besides, it'd save my hunk of junk car from any further damage.

Walking down the vacant halls of the school, I could hear the thumping from my worn out shoes echo off the walls. It made me think of how empty the school was last night when Kyle asked me for a ride home. It was such an odd turn of events, I thought it'd be quiet and awkward.. But I felt completely at home when he was talking my ear off. Wendy's bickering and complaining made me used to it, that and when Kyle would vent about his mom being a naggy bitch and Cartman being an insensitive asshole.

It's as if life tested me that moment to see if I would blow a fuse or something- though there was no way I could, I could never be so cruel to Kyle in such a state. But sadly, I was that cruel. He was in that state, just without me knowing it.

Maybe that's the point of being genuinely nice. We never completely know what's going on in someone's head, and I keep making a complete ass of myself. Nothing I can do about it now, I guess. I could simply not be a dick and still be off better off in this feud. My thoughts simmered down once I got to my locker, working out the combination and swinging it open.

I quickly retrieved my old red backpack and swung it over my shoulder. I quickly turned to the long haired girl I was seemingly attatched to. What did she want now?

"Hi Stan.." she started with her head lowered, "Sorry for all the silent treatment.."

It lasted four hours.

"I feel terrible.."

Oh shit. It was happening. She was going to lure me in with the idea I was right then ambush me with more horrible yammerings about herself and what I could be doing wrong.

But why do I let it happen?

"Do you have time?" she reached in to latch onto my arm, "I need to talk to someone.."

Well, she spared no time to go on paragraph by paragraph on her latest issues from the past four hours, and I just layed back and listened to it all over again.

I'm back in what she calls a relationship. It's sickening. A relationship shouldn't be so overbearingly painful to be in- to think I would know that by now.

"Wendy.." I released from her arm's grasp.

"What is it, Stan?" she looked up at me 'innocently'.

A million thoughts rolled through my mind. You're a bitch, stop complaining so much about the same thing every single say; and why can't you be polite? Try to be less bossy. Furthermore, can't you ever shut up an listen to what I have to say? You manipulate people to get your way and it pisses me off. So what if you're smart and financially generous. You care way too much about these little things that can be looked over. I can't take it anymore, I just can't!

Well, here it comes.. The words are about to finally spill out of my very own mouth.

"I gotta go." I pace down the hall, leaving her without a clue of what just happened.

I almost did it, too. I almost ridded myself of the title 'Wendy's boyfriend'. But I chickened out.

A couple hours later, the last bell of the day announced our departure for the busses or whatever motorized vehicle people may take home. Thank goodness- but now I gotta find Craig.

Looking down the hall, I only saw a few of our classmates about their own buisness. Where was that chullo child?

"Sup." he said monotonely behind me. To be honest, it made me jump a little bit.

"Not bringing anything home with you?" I referred to the fact he had no backpack or book.

"Why bother?" he replied deadly, exiting the school, "You brought anything we could need."

"Should I be offended?"

"Your call, Marsh."

"Do you have any idea who our report's gonna be on?" I closed my eyes, preparing for some smartass remark.

"William Faulkner." he answered instantly.

"William Faulkner?"

"William Faulkner."

"Why?"

He sighed and looked upwards as if I just asked a stupid question. Well, I didn't think it was a stupid question, "I remember useless shit about that dude from the last time I attempted a report."

I quirked an eyebrow, unimpressed by the way he said 'attempted', "Really now? What do you remember about him?"

"Well, he's a writer." he continued looking staright ahead.

"And?" I leaned forward, trying to keep his attention.

"And what?" he looked over to me with the same exact expression he always wore.

I could only facepalm myself. I wonder if Kyle was starting that night, too..

/Thanks for all the awesome reviews! :D By the way, there IS a comic version to this. I am NOT stealing, because I draw the comic. xD If you want proof, I will declare it on smackjeeves for all to know I'm Squid on . But seriously now. Thanks again, it means a lot! c: /


	5. Craig's POV of that morning

Just another day in the Tucker household, nothing standing out of the ordinary as people lazilly slumped around the house, still in arguments with the fact their awake as they make breakfast for themselves. All seemed normal as normal gets, from the mom yelling profanity aimed for the ears of the dad and the daughter obsessively flipping them both off as if saying "grow up.", to the dad's eggos being stolen by someone that refuses to come clean.

"CRAIG!"

Yup, even that part seemed like routine. My mother blaring out her vocal sirens from downstairs is always inviting.

"WHAT?" I leaned out from the entrance of the bathroom with a toothbrush at hand. At the age of twelve, I finally got into the habit of brushing my teeth after hearing that braces were going to be an option for me in the future. Still waiting, sadly.

"Get down here right now!" she snapped back.

Her expression matched her almost always pissed off one, but I imagined something on the lines of a fat blonde fire breathing dragon wench destructing every living room object in her path; for this seemed much more likely.

"Why?"

"Questions later, now get down here!"

I slouched and came down the stairs with a rumbly thump in my steps, returning the brush to my mouth.

"I'm brushing my teeth woman, whaddya want?" I showed off my lovely finger to the living room as I brought myself through. Luckilly my sister doesn't pants me anymore since I've started wearing only boxers around the house in the morning, but my eyes are always scanning the room in case.

"We're fed up with your horrible grade in english!" she crossed her arms, "You're bringing a friend home to work on that upcoming assignment."

That did NOT make me happy. Both my middle fingers straigtened themselves as I clenched my teeth between the foamy toothpaste and brush, mumbling out my words as clearly as I could, "Like hell I am! Since when do you care about my grades, anyways?"

The bitch turned around and raised her hand to silence my bickering, "Thomas and I agreed that if you don't pass, you don't graduate. No graduation means you're stuck here and nobody wants that!" she hissed and turned back to me to glare with beady black marbles, "And to show you we're serious, if you don't pass this thing.."

I wasn't interested in anything she was saying.

"We're taking Stripe to the pet store"

"WHAT?" my jaw dropped, the paste drooling out of my mouth as I stood in astonishment. This wasn't fair, Stripe is MINE. It's like taking the president of the United States away! You just. Don't. Do that.

Well, it looks like I need to start planning this more thoroughly.

Don't worry Stripe, I'll save you.

Without missing a single Red Racer, because I'm that awesome.


End file.
